


The Last Great God

by breecatherine901



Series: Next [1]
Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Drama, F/F, F/M, Friendship, Immortal Violence, Immortality, Kinda?, M/M, Mentions of Taylor Swift, Multi, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Not Beta Read, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Unrequited Love, We Die Like Women, lots of tags, so many crushes, you don't know the characters im tagging now since theyre OCs but you will
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28041051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breecatherine901/pseuds/breecatherine901
Summary: In a world where the titans rise again, the Olympians take arms against them only to be defeated. In their fleeting moments, many attempt to preserve their way of life, with a few sending their children away to be raised on the island of Ogygia. The children live in comfortable solitude, far from the danger of the titans. This is until they are prophesized to avenge their parents and retake the world.
Series: Next [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2054031
Kudos: 2





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I really did not expect to post my own fanfic on here but here I am. I typically don't read stories heavily based on original characters on this site but I've put almost eighteen months and thirty thousand words into this story so I thought I might as well post it since it's not something I would publish. This story is heavily based on Percy Jackson and a fanfiction called which I cannot recall but I will tag. This story has a lot of more heart in it and I don't mind if no one sees it; I just thought I would put it out in case anyone would end up interested.
> 
> In all honesty it feels like sacrilege to write my favorite canon characters so I typically stray away from that but hopefully I'll get better. I'm very open to feedback by the way. I hope everyone enjoys the plot and the characters, I have the first three parts finished and a few others I just need to bridge them all together.

# Prologue

The sun hangs low in the sky.

_How did they not shoot him down?_ She ponders, hands pressed into the stone balcony. Faint twinges of her father appear on her face as she sinks lower and lower, letting her head fall closer to the stone. It’s been a long day, too long. 

Finally, her forehead brushes against the rough wall and she lets out a pent up sigh. Her eyes close and she is at ease. The birds in the garden chirp and the wind blows through the grasses, and she thinks she could stay there forever until she hears her name from behind her.

With caution, the blonde lifts her head to see a tall, young man with tanned skin and Patagonia. He hands her the letter with careful words. She turns the crisp white envelope over in her hands and he doesn’t stay to see her open it and unfold a yellowed piece of paper. Her eyes follow the lines carefully and she doesn’t drop her jaw until the mint seal at the bottom of the page. If she had the freedom she would have dropped the letter but instead she finds her way through the garden and unturns a large rock, conjuring a small pen and paper and scribbling, careful but dutiful words against the dirt beneath her. 

It takes her long enough to finish. Despite the urgency, she ceases to sign her name hastily. A messenger bird appears as if she willed it and without a moment’s indecision its ascended into the maya blue sky and she doesn’t let the bird leave her sight until its disappeared into the clouds. Word is out.

  
  



	2. I - Cypress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what plans I have for chapter titles and details yet but today is Taylor Swift's birthday! If you haven't listened to Folklore or Evermore (which was released on the 11th) yet, then totally do. Taylor is the world's best songwriter and one of the best artists of all time, not to mention just a stellar person who's made a huge impact not only on me and my life but SO MANY people. I'm listening to Evermore (Ivy specifically) as I type this and make edits to this story as a lot of this was written between now and summer 2019. Definitely, give Taylor a listen today. A national holiday has begun.

# I

CYPRESS

“Finn!” 

“Oh gods,” the demigod mutters much to Cypress’s amusement. He flips his blue bucket hat over his head as his sister trudges down the beach.

“Finn!” She shouts again, this time standing next to his beach chair. When he doesn’t reply, she grabs his hat and throws it in the surf.

“Hey!” Finn exclaims. “That’s my hat!”

“I don’t care about your hat,” Adelaide says, and taps her foot angrily against the sand. “You broke into Calypso’s collection of alcohol. You have worse things to worry about.”

Finn snorts. “Whatever, Laida. I don’t think she’ll care if I got into her sacred storage of booze. She has enough to fill all of the lakes, ponds, and streams on the island.” He gets up from his chair and surges the hat back to him on a wave before putting the soggy thing on his head. “You worry too much.”

“You worry too little.” Adelaide remarks, blue eyes bursting with anger. 

Her brother just rolls his eyes. “Maybe just forget all of that. Come, sit with us.” He gestures to an empty chair next to him. “Cypress and I would love your company.”

“Absolutely not.” The blonde objects. “I wouldn’t be caught dead on this beach, especially not with an infuriated Calypso on the loose.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He mutters before putting his sunglasses back on and laying on the chair. 

Cypress drills her fingers on her own chair. “Is Calypso really angry?” She asks Adelaide. “Has she found out yet?”

“Not yet,” Adelaide sighs. “But she will. And when she does,” she narrows her eyes at Finn. “I suggest you all run for cover.”

“Well noted.” Finn quips. “Now, can you go somewhere else. Sorry, Sis, but you’re blocking my sun.”

Adelaide scoffs before stomping back up the beach and towards the pavilion. Cypress watches her as she goes and then stands up from her lounge, stretching. Finn tips his shades down to lock eyes with her.

“You’re not leaving are you? Not because of Addy?”

Cypress smiles sheepishly. “I think I should go talk to my grandma.” She picks up her towel and lugs it over her shoulder. “I’ll come back later.”

Finn just shakes his head. “Whatever you say, Cy.”

With that, the ten year old starts her own trek up the north shore towards the grotto on the edge ofthe island. Lady Leto lives in a modest gallery in the densely forested part of the island which is home to one of Finn’s aforementioned lakes. A wooden structure stands over top of a portion of the lake and this is where Leto resides. Cypress catches sight of the glint from the pottery on the porch before two giggling blurs encompass her vision. 

“Watch out, Cy!” Paris warns as he runs past with Helena on his tail. Helena turns briefly to flash her a smile before continuing out of the grotto. Typical. Paris and Helena were always running somewhere.

She wonders if they were in the grotto for the same reason as she is.

The young girl walks up the ramp to Leto’s porch before lightly knocking at the door despite it remaining open. “Lady Leto,” she calls quietly.

“Come, Cypress. Come in.”

She follows the voice to a well furnished sitting room with Hawaiian patterned sofas and chairs. Leto sits in a red cushioned chair with a glass of iced tea. She smiles warmly at the sight of the girl. “Cypress,” she says, putting down her glass. “How lovely to see you. Sit! What can I do for you, darling? 

“Thank you, it’s good to see you too, Lady Leto.” She takes a seat on the sofa next to her. “I just wanted to come and visit. Maybe ask a few questions of course.”

“Of course, you’re always welcome.” Leto states and then rises to her feet to head towards the small kitchenette. “Ask away. Just please promise you’ll stop saying ‘Lady Leto,’ you’re far too formal for your own good.”

Cypress nods. “Yes, of course-Leto.” The young girl begins to drill her fingers against the arm of the sofa like she did on the beach. “I was wondering if you could tell me a bit about some things of Calypso’s that I found the other day. They confused me.”

“Hmm,” Leto hums. “Go on.”

“Well,” She begins. “I’d left one of my books on the table in the main house and you know how Calypso is,” Leto chuckles, “she left some letters on top of my book. I know she didn’t mean to and I shouldn’t have touched her things but curiosity got the best of me.”

The titaness nods. “And what did the letters say?”

“They were from an Alexis Clancy-,” Leto’s face drops but she puts a smile back on immediately. “-and someone named Jørgen Holgerson.”

Leto sighs. “But what did they say, Cypress?”

“Well, they were all asking if she could know how Paris was and if Paris could possibly come live with her and Jørgen.” Cypress looks up from twiddling her thumbs nervously. “Alexis is Paris’s mother, right?”

“Yes, Alexis is Paris’s mother.”

“So, that also means that she’s your granddaughter, correct?”

The titaness nods once again. “Yes, this is all true, but can you tell me anything else in the letter?”

Cypress puts a slender finger to her temple, golden locks falling over it. “She mentioned something about Lea and some mountain and a marriage but I couldn’t finish the letter because Calypso was on her way into the room.” Leto’s lips turn into a fine line and her great Cypress notices. “Leto, is something wrong?”

“No, Cypress.” Leto says softly, smiling at the young girl. “No need to worry. Was there anything else you came to me to talk about?”

“Oh, yes!” Cypress exclaims, suddenly remembering. “Adelaide was talking about my mom a few days ago. Something about her younger sister. I didn’t realize I had an aunt.”

“Hmm,” Leto hums. “Briseis. Yes, Briseis is your aunt. Barely old enough to be one, but still.”

The young blonde girl scoots closer to Leto and the arm of the sofa. “Can you tell me anything about her?”

Leto pretends to rack her brain. “Well, she looked just like your mother, and your grandmother. There was never a doubt that those three were related. I could say the same about you.”

Cypress giggles, green glinting eyes lighting up. “I look just like my mom and my grandma?” Leto nods with a smile. “What about my dad?” 

“You and your father may not have the same hair color but you definitely have the same green eyes.” Leto takes a moment to appreciate the young girl’s eyes. “Both of you have very vivid, lovely green eyes.”

“Thank you.” Cypress says, beaming. 

The sky crackles above them with thunder. “Hmm,” Leto murmurs as she picks up her glass of iced tea. “Looks like we’ll be having a storm tonight.”

“You think?” 

The goddess nods. “We’re due for one.”  
The young girl quakes an eyebrow. “When was the last time it stormed?”  
Leto gives her a smile. “Quite some time ago. A month or two.”

Cypress simply nods. When she was younger storms had been much more common; they were a sign of the conflict outside of the island. Her early childhood was all storms. She had been so scared then. That was back when Calypso would coddle her and cuddle her until she felt okay again. When was the last time Calypso had hugged her?

Her thoughts are interrupted by her grandmother who is suddenly summoning her a glass of iced tea. “Now, Cypress,” she begins. “Last time we talked, you mentioned something about having some interesting dreams.” The coaster beneath her tea has a sunflower on it. “Tell me abou it.”  
She wrings her hands, “well, they were kinda weird.” She runs her fingers over the smooth birch endtable beside her. “There were a lot of people I knew and a lot of people I didn’t.”  
“Who were all in your dreams?” Her grandmother asks.

Cypress settles her hands in her lap as she tries to think. “My parents, they’ve been in a lot of them. Finn and Adelaide and Lena’s parents. My aunts. Monsters.” 

Leto’s eyebrows arch. “What kind of monsters?”  
The ten year old shrugs. “I don’t know-snakes.” She looks down at her feet. “Really, really long snakes, with giant teeth.” She begins to tug at the bottom of her shorts. “It almost felt like they were there with me in my room and in my dreams. They were wrapping around me until I passed out.” She meets her grandmother’s normally relaxed eyes which are now bright with curiosity-and concern. “Then I woke up.”  
Leto simply nods. She wants to say more but she can tell the goddess is thinking and she doesn’t want tp interrupt her. She had a hard time thinking herself and someone was always interrupting her thoughts. Not that they ever knew, so it wasn’t their fault.

She takes a moment to take in her grandmother’s appearance which is bathed by sunlight from the skylight. Her caramel hair shines gold, even as its braided intricately down her back. Leto braided her ahir pretty often. It’s her favorite part of any visit with her.

The goddess notices the young girl’s stare trailing down her back and she lets out a sigh. “Why don’t we talk about your dreams a little more, Cypress, and I’ll braid your hair.”

Cypress simply nods and sits on the rug in front of Leto’s chair. She could never resist a good braid.

  
  


* * *

+++

* * *

  
  


Cypress heads back to her humble abode after some more light chatter and tea with Leto. The woman always had a way of relieving her nerves, whether they were visible or not. 

The sand makes no noise beneath her feet as she approaches the quaint two story structure that is her home. Adelaide told her that once that the building looked like a garage to some house in Honolulu but Cypress had never been to Honolulu so she just assumed that Hawaii had nice garages. It is truly a garage. Two large white garage doors adorn the front of the building with a small balcony overtop and bales of greenery brush up against the walls. 

Cypress opens the chipped white door to reveal tropical wood floors and the common area that she shares with Addy. They have some sofas and a chair or two along with a small kitchen where they usually eat their meals at the connecting island. Upstairs are their respective rooms.

She trudges up to hers, suddenly tired. Her room is simple. It’s the same as the exterior but with a twin bed, a desk and stool, a hanging chair, a dresser, and a closet. Other than the woven rugs and a few plants, there isn’t much else to her room. She doesn’t mind. She doesn’t spend much time here anyway.

Time on Ogygia is better spent on the beach with Finn or hiking the backwoods with Maggie or spending time at the grotto with Leto. 

With a sigh, she plops down onto her bed laying upside down. Her head lands on a brown and white blanket Leto knitted for her a few years ago. She was little then, probably six or seven, back when there was still a lot of construction on Ogygia. Back when Calypso didn’t bury herself in booze and when her parents were more than a bedtime story. 

Paris used to tell her about her dad. That was when Addy got tired of telling her all she knew about Cypress’s father and her own godfather. As the oldest, Addy was supposed to know the most and she did but that didn’t mean she didn’t get tired of retelling the same stories for almost ten years. Whenever Adelaide mentioned their parents it was usually in passing and it was brief. A comment about how Bo could do the same tricks on the beach as Finn or how Helena talked like their mom. 

Cypress wished she remembered that much but all she could remember were fleeting dreams and warm conversations that happened when she was just a baby. She had that stereotypical warm, blurry, halo glow around her parents’ appearance that most infants had but she was ten. Despite seeing their faces in photos, they seemed foreign to her but in her case it made sense.

The young girl nearly jumps when she hears a rap at the door. “Come in,” She squeaks.

Bursting in through the door is Helena who immediately shuts it behind her with a click and goes for the windows.

“Hello, Helena?” Cypress greets awkwardly.

“Hi, Cypress.” The chestnut haired girl says hurriedly, looking out the windows before snapping the blinds shut and drawing the curtains. 

“Um, Lena, are you alright?” The girl props herself up on one elbow.

“For now.” Helena answers and takes a seat on the yellow cushioned stool. Cypress raises an eyebrow and Helena takes a breath before explaining. “Calypso is currently raging and I would like to stay as far away from her as possible.”

The dots connect in Cypress’s head and she realized that Adelaide’s warnings were coming to be useful. “Oh.” Is all she says. 

“Oh, is right.” Helena confirms as she spins around on the stool before coming to a stop to face the younger girl. “So, what’ve you been up to, Cy? I saw you were back at Old Lady Leto’s last time I saw you.”

She shrugs. “I just wanted to talk to her.”

Helena nods, her curls bouncing as she does so. “Yeah, Leto’s really good to talk to. She gives the best advice, and she has a good way of making you feel normal.”

“Yeah.” Cypress agrees and rolls onto her back on the bed. “Helena?”

“Yeah, Cy?”

“Tell me about my parents.”

Helena laughs lightly. “I was like three, Cy.”

“Maybe four.”

The older girls laughs again. “So you want me to go off of my four year old memories?” To which Cypress hums a yes. “Well,” Helena drills her fingers on her thighs. “Your dad, Harry, was my godfather but he was also like my uncle. From what I remember, he was the coolest. He always gave me great gifts. One time he got me my own mini Jeep, I think it was for my third birthday. It had a radio and everything. There really wasn’t anywhere for me to drive it since we lived in the city but when we’d visit my grandad or go to Long Island, I’d always insist on bringing it.” Helena starts to giggle, tan cheeks turning pink. “And this one time-gods your dad was funny-he got into the Jeep with me.” Now Cypress giggles. “We got pretty far, from the house to the pool until...until we flipped the Jeep into the pool.” Cypress bursts into laughter and Helena tries not to and continues on with the story, stifling laughter. “My dad was all worried and my mom too I guess but we both just laughed and sat there on the concrete after with our legs in the pool. We must’ve laughed for hours.”

Cypress chuckles as she puts her chin in her hands and looks up at Helena. “That’s worth laughing for hours.”

“I’d say so too,” the tan girl agrees. 

“Finn!” 

The two flinch when they hear a ghastly shriek. “Calypso.” Is all Helena says. 

When she begins nervously running her hands through her hair, Cypress asks, “did you take from Calypso’s stuff?”

Helena bites her lip, drumming her fingers on the desk now. “No.” Cypress isn’t sure whether to trust her answer or not but instead tries to block out Calypso’s shouting.

“Hey,” Helena stands up from the stool. “Do you still have that record player of yours?”

“Yeah, but it’s in Adelaide’s room.” 

“And?”

“And, Addy doesn’t like people touching her stuff.”

Helena huffs. “I’m her sister, and she’ll never know anyways.” With that, she leaves Cypress’s room for barely a minute and comes back with a purple Victrola. She plugs the record player in near the corner on a small glass cart before looking back to the blonde. 

“Do you have anything good to play?”

“Hmm,” Cypress sits up and gets off of her bed to browse the shelves on her wall that are lined with records, most of them twenty years or older. She eventually finds one: Grand Slam, an EP by a group named Danny and Alex. She passes the album to Helena who slides the vinyl out and adjusts it on the turntable. 

Smooth pop plays and suddenly they can’t hear Calypso. Helena sinks into the hanging chair adjacent to the record player and Cypress lies on her bed, looking up at the ceiling. 

They stay that way for a while until Helena announces that she’s tired of the record and searches the shelves for another. She settles for an album by Foster The People primarily because the opening track is titled, “Helena Beat.”

A few more minutes of silence between them sink in until Helena speaks again. “My mom’s mixtape is so much better.”

“I’ve never heard it.”

Helena snorts. “Yes, you have. It’s the one with that one band-ah-what’s the name?”

“No idea.” Cypress mumbles.

“Vampire weekend!” Helena exclaims. “Lots of Vampire Weekend on that mixtape, a lot of chill, mellow, summer songs.”

Cypress nods her head. “That sounds nice.”

“It is. She played a lot of great music.” Helena swings in the chair. “Lots of seventies soft rock too.”

“Didn’t she play a lot of Paris’s mom’s music too?”

“Yup,” Helena says, popping the p. “Alexis had some great music, she did get like a dozen Grammys after all.”

“What’re Grammys again?”

The older girl rolls her eyes. “Just music awards.”

“Gotcha,” the blonde murmurs and lays her head back on one of her throw pillows, staring up at the ceiling once again. She surveys the gold and silver constellations above her bed. She remembers, years ago, she and Adelaide painting them up there. It must’ve taken all day and night because every constellation that they could fit is labeled and small footnotes trail off to the side, some about the Pleiades, Perseus, Orion, Lyra, Aquila, and over a hundred others. 

Cypress hadn’t been the one to write or sketch out all of the constellations since she would’ve written too big. Adelaide had stood, hands braced against the walls, trying her best to fit all of the stars into a single ceiling. Cypress hadn’t minded not being able to do most of the work, she was fine with painting the night sky that came before the stairs and putting up glitter and gold paint that fell off in flakes onto her comforter, and still did after three years. 

She turns her head to look over at Helena who is doing her best to block out even more shouts which they can both hear, even over the record player. Just another day on Ogygia.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is still very new and kind of exciting to me, posting fanfic and all that. Just a friendly reminder that I am very open to feedback and criticism and I have more chapters to upload.


	3. II - Maggie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is chapter two! I'll be honest I have the next chapter started but not finished. A lot of the parts and chapters I've completed are way in the future or at least 5+ chapters ahead and I'm pretty wrecked with schoolwork right now so hopefully I can get them up soon. Once again, I hope you guys enjoy!

# II

MAGGIE

Paris comes slinking into her private oasis right around the time that Calypso starts rampaging.

She asks if the two are connected.

“Nope.” Paris says simply and takes a seat next to her on the bench overlooking the sea. “I’m smarter than that.”

Maggie just rolls her eyes. “Are you really?”

“I’m smart enough to get as far away as possible even if I didn’t steal from her stash.”

She just sighs and looks out to sea. From her peripheral vision she can see the waves crashing onto the shore at the inlet. That’s another place she likes to go to think, down on the sandy coast. But she thought here would be a much better location today, too bad her dåre of a cousin had to show up.

“Anything on your mind?” He asks and reclines back as much as he can on the bench. 

Maggie simply breathes. “Nothing much.”

“Alright then.” After about twenty seconds of silence he looks over at her. “My mom took me to some cliffs like these, but Big Sur was better.”

She chuckles. “These cliffs pale in comparison to Big Sur.”

“Yeah, they’d beat Calypso’s shabby little island anyway.”

The blonde wants to laugh but she just shakes her head, a small smile brimming her face. “My mom loved Big Sur.”

“Which one?”

It sounds like a joke but Maggie realizes it’s a legitimate question. “Both.” She finally decides. 

Paris nods. “Our moms had taste.”

Maggie silently agrees and they both look out to sea before she speaks. “My parents took me to a few different places like this when I was younger.” She doesn’t break her staring contest with the ocean as she talks. “The Cliffs of Moher, Cape Enniberg, Jotunheimen, Látrabjarg, to name a few.”

He snorts. “Jötunheim? Isn’t that the land of the giants?”

“Well, Jotunheimen translates to ‘the home of the giants,’ but that’s a national park. Jötunheim is a whole other realm, where the jötnar happen to live.”

“Hmmm,” Paris taps his fingers against the wood planks on the bench. “So, have you been to any of the realms? Other than, what is it-,”

“-Midgard?” Paris nods. Maggie briefly racks her brain. “Well, like I said, I’ve been to Midgard of course, we live on Midgard.” She tilts her head in thought. “Now that I think of it I’ve been to four realms: Vanaheim, Asgard, Alfheim, and then Midgard.”

“So which one is like Olympus, Vanaheim or Asgard?”

“Probably Asgard. The Æsir are much older than the Vanir.”

“Interesting,” Paris hums and leans against the bench. 

Maggie nods and continues to look out to the sea, with its glittering waves and sunlit tides. Suddenly she hears a loud shout from the eastern shore. Paris winces. After a few seconds she turns her head back towards Paris and asks about where he’s travelled.

He whistles. “Back when my mom was on tour, I travelled quite a bit.” He grins at her. “Now that I’m thinking about it I think I’ve been to the ABBA museum.”

Maggie chuckles. “The ABBA museum?”

“Yeah.” He murmured. “I think it was back in 2037, before the war.” He pauses to look at the sea before facing the blonde again, and sits partially cross legged. “We were visiting Jørgen’s family in Norway and then we stopped in Stockholm before we went home. I think we had dinner with Adelaide, Finn, and Lena’s grandma, she was nice.”

“Oh yeah, Johanna, right?”

Paris wags his finger at her. “That’s the one! She had a _beautiful_ home. I just remember it having a bunch of blankets and candles and this _amazing_ fireplace.”

Maggie tilts her head in thought,”I think I was there a few times when I was younger. Adelaide and Finn were there, Helena too probably.”

“That makes sense. Isn’t Johanna a demigod? Well, a Norse one?”

The girl nods. “Her father is Njord.”

“A sea god? That makes sense.” He whistles again. “That’s why Finn and Lena are so powerful. They have like seventy-five percent ichor in their veins.” He pauses. “Well, Lena does. I’m pretty sure Finn only has sixty-two point five percent or something.”

“He’s still pretty powerful.” Maggie says. She imagines Finn materializing before them and creating a tidal wave that washed over the cliff. He’d done that before.

“Aren’t you kinda similar since both of your moms are demigods,” Paris questions. 

Maggie isn’t surprised by the question. She’d been asked more times than once, by mortals and immortals alike, what it was like having two moms. In one of the only memories of Lea Powell that she can remember, the goddess had compared it to people asking about her being born from Athena. Maggie hadn’t been born out of her mothers’ skulls or anything but she had been the result of IVF. 

When her moms finally decided that they wanted a child, they researched a Stockholm based sperm bank and even found a demigod. This meant that Maggie was half divine and half mortal, just as her moms had been. She had no clue who her biological father was or who his parents were but not long after her birth she’d been blessed by Thor and Zeus, separately of course. Thor was her mom, Brynhild’s, stepfather and Zeus was Rebecca’s father, and both wanted to give gifts to their daughters’ newborn. 

Thus, she’d grown up with great power. She couldn’t fly, and it was difficult to summon lightning or thunder on command but she wasn’t too bad with a sword and shield or a bow. 

“And Calypso told you all of this?”

Maggie shakes her head. “Yeah. I guess my moms told her all of this before she left.”

“That’s cool.” Paris tells her that like he deemed her two moms and startlingly powerful grandparents interesting enough to be cool.

“My granddad is the god of archery but I’m only meh at it.”

Maggie rolls her eyes. She’d seen Paris shoot. If he could take out an apple from a hundred feet away, he was more than meh. “You’d be better if you trained more.”

Now Paris rolls his own eyes. “ _Train_? Who am I? Achilles?” No, Achilles would be far less annoying. “It’s not like we have any great teachers here.”

“Adelaide taught us to sword fight.”

“And who did she learn from?”

“Her parents?”

“Keep going.”

“Camp Half Blood?”

“Bingo!” Paris shouts. “Adelaide had professional training. Maybe she only had a year or two, but a couple of years at camp are more than we’ve ever got and Adelaide can’t exactly translate that into training. Besides, she’s too much of an academic.”

Maggie crosses her arms. “You’re pretty harsh for someone who uses a _glaive_.”

Paris’s expression sours. “You know you have a battle axe right? We’ve all seen it.”

“It was from my grandfather!”

“Yup.” Paris lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Very formidable. Very practical.”

“My axe isn’t my only weapon.”

“I only remember your axe.” Paris claims.

“Good thing I only remember your glaive.” Maggie replies.

“Glaives are cool.”

“Glaive are for Egyptians.”

“And what’s wrong with Egyptians?” Paris questions, standing up from the bench.

Maggie shrugs. “I don’t know. They’re just kinda lame.”

“Lame?” Paris bellows. “The Egyptian empire lasted for thirty centuries. And how long were the Vikings around for? Four centuries?”

Maggie flies to her feet. “The Vikings were around for _way_ longer than that.” She states firmly. “And the Vikings gave the Romans quite the fight, ever heard of the Battle of the Teutoburg Forest?”

“Nope!”

“I’m not surprised. I wouldn’t expect someone so enamored with the Egyptian empire to know the triumph of defeating the Roman Empire.”

“Hey, the Egyptians were rolling in cash from their successful river based economy.” The bronze haired boy carps.

“Money means nothing if you can’t win battles.” Maggie quips back. 

“And battles mean nothing if no one remembers you.”

“Everyone remembers the Vikings!” Maggie shouts, and she feels electricity pulsing at her fingers.

“Hmm,” Paris hums and puts a finger to his temple. “The Vikings...or the Pyramids? Or Cleopatra?”

“Cleopatra was the coolest, I don’t think you can argue with that.”

Finn strides towards them up the hill. His blue bucket hat is soaked along with his bronze curls. The water drips down the shoulder of his blue button up, which is open and fluttering from the wind. Maggie can clearly see that he’s gotten some sun today. Paris may be the grandson of a sun god but Finn was the one who was sun kissed. His golden brown skin and tan made him look almost god like, even with the gray clouds blocking out the sun. He carried his Cretan Yataghan, Dikate, by his side as he walks up to the two. 

Maggie folds her arms against her chest. “Yes, Cleopatra is one of the greatest women of the ancient world but she doesn’t make up for the bravery and battle prowess the Vikings had.”

“She and Mark Antony _died_ for each other.” Paris exclaims. “They had it all, romance, power, ships, men, kingdoms,-“

“-everything except for the wit to beat Octavian.” She interrupts. 

“You can’t blame them,” Finn sets his sword against the bench. “They were star crossed lovers and Octavian was one of the best military strategists of all time.”

“Sure.” Maggie drawls. “There’s a reason the Romans never crossed the Rhine.”

Paris is about to go on a tangent about Germania Magna before Finn throws up a hand in his direction. “Okay, enough arguing about empires that have been dead for centuries. We have more important matters to discuss.”

“What could be more important than establishing how much better the Egyptians are than the Vikings?” Paris inquires, hazel eyes filled with annoyance. Maggie sends him a death glare.

Finn grins at the two. “Dinner.”


	4. III - Helena

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helena spends a night with a plate of pasta and the gang. Shenanigans and Jose Cuervo related violence ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it took me almost a month to update; gross. I apologize, I've been super busy with schoolwork and college apps and I had to quarantine so I'm also going insane. I finally sat down and wrote this chapter though which is lovely. Fun fact: I started writing this chapter in June of 2020 and now in January of 2021 it is finished. That's almost six months but hey, it's better late than never. For this story, I really write ideas as they come and go and I usually force myself to write in chronological order until I move past my writer's block and crank out a few thousand words and some decent plot. Enjoy!

#  III

HELENA

“Thank the gods for penne!”

Helena shovels a large forkful into her mouth. For the past six years, Wednesdays had been pasta night which meant that all six of them whipped up their own culinary creations and ate on the outdoor pavilion. Sometimes Calypso and Leto participated but tonight it was just the six of them, as Leto had retired early and Calypso was too enraged to look at any of them. She was going to have to get over Finn stealing a bottle of Jack Daniels sooner or later. 

Finn had told them about how he’d lifted a bottle of booze from Calypso’s cave this morning. Adelaide had started on a rant while Helena and Paris booed, at both of them. Finn and Addy were always fighting. Paris suggested once it was because they were the oldest but Helena just found her siblings annoying. 

Adelaide shrugs at her endorsement of penne. “I think fettuccine wins for me tonight.”

“No.” Finn tears a chunk of garlic bread from his slice. “It’s  _ definitely  _ the Bucatini.”

“You’re both wrong,” Paris claims and holds out his plate, which is filled to the brim with a ginormous slice of lasagna, an heirloom tomato galette, artichoke dip with spinach pesto, and bread and cheese. Helena has no idea how he’s finishing his plate. “Lasagna is taking home the gold tonight. You just can’t beat it.” Helena thinks that Paris should keep eating and stop trying to defend his plate. 

“Nope.” Maggie disagrees. “None of those dishes have meatballs.”

“Mine has sausage.” Paris speaks up with a mouthful of lasagna. 

Maggie shakes her head. “Spaghetti and meatballs are a classic. They’re not Swedish or anything but they’re delicious.”

Finn rolls his eyes“I could’ve made meatballs tonight if someone asked.”

“I don’t think you would’ve made them to Maggie’s standards.” Helena interjects. “You’re not a real Swede after all.”

“Sure, but I make them just like dad makes them, and he’s a Swede.”

“Does it even matter if you’re a real Swede?” Paris poses the question before taking a sip of some fruit cocktail Finn had whipped up.

“What?” Cypress asks. The pavilion fan buzzes wildly above her head.

“What do you mean, ‘does it matter if you’re a real Swede?’” Maggie scoffs. “You can very _clearly_ tell the difference between true Swedish meatballs and Americanized meatballs.”  
Paris shakes his head. He raises a finger, taking his time to finish the rest of his mocktail. Maggie crosses her arms. He finally sets the glass down and begins to explain. “Listen,” he says. “My mom’s sister-,”  
“-which one, you have to be specific, Paris.” Adelaide interrupts from across the picnic table.

Finn nods in agreement, something rare for her older siblings. “Yeah, how many daughters does Apollo have again?”  
“Not that many-,”  
“Maybe before the common era but now he has quite a few.” Adelaide affirms.

“Anyways,” Paris continues loudly. “My mom’s sister-I have no idea which one, she was a lot younger-worked at IKEA, and she was the farthest thing from Swedish.” Maggie shakes her head with disapproval. “She still made some of the greatest meatballs. My mom and I visited her once because she worked at the one in Philly and they were  _ delicious _ .”

Maggie rolls her eyes. “Cool story, Paris, but I’m sure my granddad makes better meatballs than your aunt.”  
The demigod groans. “The point, _Maggie_ ,” he sends her an annoyed look. “Is that it doesn’t matter if you’re Swedish or not to make delicious meatballs.”  
“Sure.” She sighs and twirls an egg noodle with her fork.

The six of them eat in harmony, cracking jokes in between mouthfuls of pasta and sips from Finn’s Mini Dive Bar that consists of a cooler, some flavored syrups, and fruit juices. Helena’s pretty sure she sees a bottle of Jose Cuervo beneath all of the ice and Adelaide must too since she slams the cooler shut. 

Soon enough their plates are empty of pasta and their stomachs are full of carbs. Helena teases Paris for being the first to leave but she soon envies him as she realizes what Adelaide has in store for her.

“Addy,” the girl bleats, tugging at her sister’s Egyptian blue cardigan. “You know I _hate_ doing the dishes.”  
“All the better for you to grow out of it then,” the older girl states plainly and begins stacking plates.

“Thanks for covering the dishes tonight, guys,” Maggie yawns, earning a glare from Finn and Helena. She looks to Cypress who is still picking at her simple stack of spaghetti. “Are you ready, Cy? Or should I wait?”  
The young girl shakes her head and sets her fork down gently. “No, I think I’m ready.”  
Finn quirks an eyebrow. “You sure, Cy? Looks like you still have quite the pile of Spaghet there.”

She yawns and raises her arms above her head in a stretch. “I’m done.” 

Maggie just shrugs and the two rise from the picnic bench. “Night, guys,” Cypress waves and Maggie sends them a subtle smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow for smoothies, Cypress.” Adelaide reminds her and Helena almost feels bad for the young girl who nods her head.

“Nighty night, don’t let the titaness bite.”  
Helena snickers at the rhyme and she can hear Maggie stifling a laugh and she can more than see Adelaide’s eyes rolling and Cypress’s smile in the dark.

They slowly disappear into the island night and Adelaide shoves piles of dishes into their hands. 

“If we start now we can be done by 10:30.” 

With that, they begin. Helena hates dishes. Mainly because she hasn’t even gotten close at being able to use whatever powers Poseidon passed down to her to breeze through chores. She finally breaks down when trying to scrape a piece of hardened lasagna off of Paris’s plate. “Finn!” She pouts and pounds a playful fist against the sink.

Her brother looks up from willing the water to rinse tomato sauce out of a bowl. “What, Helena?”

“Why do I have to wash the dishes with you when you’re the one who can just make a whirlpool or some shit and just finish them all at the same time?”

Finn chuckles. “I don’t really think that’d be a good idea.” He looks to the blonde stacking dishes.

Their sister feels their eyes on her. “What?”

“Why can’t Finn just finish all of these and we can go to bed?” 

The sky cracks above them and Helena notices her sister jump slightly before opening the wooden trunk that holds their outdoor dinnerware and looking back at the two. “Why don’t you two finish,” she sighs in defeat. “Just have Finn finish everything.” She waves her hand and begins stacking the cups. “I’d rather be inside before it pours.”

“I think it’s a little too late for that,” Finn smirks and Helena watches the blonde’s jaw drop as water cascades from the sky.

She lets out a frustrated growl. “Ugh, we should’ve finished sooner.”

“If only I inherited whatever Dad has.” Helena remarks dramatically, leaning against the picnic table. “We all could’ve been warm and dry in bed right now.”

“Hey, we’re still dry,” Finn points out optimistically while speeding through the pots and pans.

“For now,” Adelaide exhales. She’s on her knees and sweeping up the breadstick crumbs beneath Paris and Cypress’s seats with a blue bristled hand brush and a dustpan.

Helena crosses her arms. “Why didn’t I inherit whatever Dad and granddad have though?” The idea had been on her mind since she was little. Sure, she could brave the waves at the beach as a kid and hold her breath longer than anyone outside of her family but Finn was a walking, talking merman.

“I don’t know, Lena, you probably got the other side of the Poseidon powers.”  
“I’ve never seen you cause an earthquake, Helena.” Adelaide counters and ties her long blonde hair up before grabbing a broom from the small closet built onto the side of the pavilion. “Maybe you inherited everything from Mom.”

“Nah, if anyone inherited anything from Mom, Adelaide, it’s you.”

She stops sweeping to prop her chin up against the broom handle. “And why is that?”  
Finn shrugs, not pausing in his persecution of the dishes except to startle slightly at the sound of thunder crackling. “You’re the most like her.”  
“Why?” His youngest sister takes a short break from her share of their chores to sit on the picnic bench beside him and sneak a piece of bread. “You don’t remember her anymore than Adelaide.”

“Wrong,” the blonde sighs, “I have three years on Finn and six years on you, Helikopter.”

“Ooh, it’s been a long time since I’ve heard that name,” Finn whistles and leans his back against the sink.

“Helikopter.”

The brunette quirks an eyebrow. “Who gave me that name anyway?”

Adelaide lifts the broom in mid air. She gives the air a few sweeps before placing it on the ground with her thought. “Dad?”

Finn nods. “That checks out. He gave us all derpy nicknames.” A grin sets on his face. “You were Helikopter,”

“-or Hell-Lena.” Adelaide inserts. Helena’s siblings share a grin. “Excuse me,” Adelaide apologizes. “That’s what  _ Mom _ called you.”

Finn agrees. “Yeah, Addy and I were Adegator and Pysen. Mom called us Arketá and Stamáta.”

Her sister snorts and throws a light punch towards her brother. “Gods, I thought those were actually nicknames until Calypso screamed both of those at us when we flooded the first pavilion and she threw all the plants at us.”

Finn wheezes, grabbing his sister’s shoulder. “Yeah, I don’t know why she didn’t kill us that night.”

“She’s forbidden under law.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ll have to remember that for the next time she’s trying to curbstomp me.”

“Speaking of curb stomping,” Helena begins and throws herself into the conversation again. “Did you really steal her booze today? Or did she not have a reason to curbstomp you?”  
Adelaide’s eyes immediately turn stony and Finn puts a foot or two of space in between them, turning behind the blonde to turn on the tap and squirt some soap on a pink plate. He shrugs, rubbing the sapphire dish soap in smooth circles along the porcelain. “Maybe.” Adelaide whacks his upper back with her broom, eliciting a yelp from him and her permanent death stare. “Fine!” He threw up his soapy hands. “I raided her liquor cabinet.” He shoots the woman a glare all her own. “Happy?”

Helena bites her lip. None of this is going to end happily.

“Of course I’m not happy,” Adelaide hollers and stomps her broom against the pavilion floor, cracking a mosaic. Helena doesn’t flinch. “You know-everyday-you dig yourself deeper into a hole.”  
“Maybe if it’s deep enough, I won’t be able to hear you two for once.” He snaps.

She lets out an aggravated sigh. “You really don’t care about anything, do you? You don’t care if she rages and makes life a living hell for us, as long as you can daydrink and break my shit you’re happy.”  
Finn throws the dish rag into the full sink. “Break _your_ shit? What are you talking about, Adelaide?”

“I’m talking about my record player!” Oh shit. “The needle won’t sit level anymore - probably because you’ve been just tossing it in the sand - and all of my Beach Boys, Babe Rainbow, and Jimi Hendrix records skip!”

“Hey guys,” Helena interrupts as she stands. “I think I’m gonna go to bed.”

“I haven’t touched Babe Rainbow in weeks!”  
“Well, you’re the only one who ever listens to them?”  
The thirteen year old collects her burnt orange sweatshirt from the picnic bench and points towards the bungalow on the west shore. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow!”  
She gets no response and slips into the island dark. Even as she makes her way onto the krokos path, almost half a mile from the pavilion, she can hear shouts of - “Gods, you’re irresponsible,” followed by “And you’re annoying.” She doesn’t need to think about who said what. 

As she lets herself into the bungalow, she tiptoes to her room. She really doesn’t want to explain to Maggie why they won’t be sleeping tonight.


	5. IV - Adelaide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time works differently on Ogygia - so do emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a long one! I'm surprised because while it took me a few weeks being busy and all, I started all of the other chapters either in summer 2019 or 2020. Hmm, maybe it's because I'm actually posting these that I'm forcing myself to try to crank out semi-regular updates. Either way, I have like 3-4 completed chapters coming up after the next few so once we get through that I'll either create an actual upload schedule or post them all at the same time. We'll see. I'm really excited for what's to come though because I can introduce a f*ckton of characters and some plot things I've been working out. 
> 
> Trigger Warning: Angwy Calypso

# IV

# ADELAIDE

Adelaide is still angry when she wakes up. 

Her feet ache and so does her head as she pulls herself out of bed. Wasting no time in socking her alarm clock. Gods, did that thing ever shut up? Sure, when she found it on the west side of the island she thought it would make a great decoration for her room - and she was right - but now it just made a great punching bag. Punching clock? Either way, she had a worse relationship with that clock than her brother. 

Gods, she wanted to take on a punching bag when she thought about her brother. How stupid could he have been to have stolen alcohol from Calypso? It’s not like he couldn’t have waltzed into Leto’s grotto and been offered a glass of wine by the titaness or even asked one of the servants for some booze. He always had to make things harder for her.

She tries to drown out the thought of her annoying little brother with Eric Clapton, delicately placing a coin above the needle, as it had been so rudely knocked off level. She stands over the turntable for forty seconds before deciding from the smooth soft rock filling the air that it wouldn't skip - and Finn could live another day.

The ensuite door remains propped open as she showers, letting the music and the hot water relieve her tense muscles. That was one of the perks of being the eldest - when she wasn’t trying to quell the eternal rebellion in her fellow youth she could enjoy quelling her anxieties with hot water. There were two bathrooms in their bungalow but Cypress had to trek downstairs to use the toilet on the first floor although Adelaide had never been one for gatekeeping her bathroom. Cypress had been prone to nightmares and trouble sleeping from a young age, something Adelaide could relate to, unfortunately. Thus Adelaide granted her a myriad of privileges, many she would never extend to even her siblings but Adelaide was the oldest and Cypress was the youngest, thus it made sense.

As she listens to one of Clapton’s more soothing reggae covers, Adelaide scrapes a glob of exfoliator onto her skin. She covers herself from head to toe in the substance. It’s a murky green mess of rough particles and scents strong enough for her to believe them artificial but so unique they must have been extracted from the island. The scrub had been a gift from Maggie who had tried her hand at botany and ended up with globs of plant paste, deciding in the end to simply enlist Cypress into grounding it all down into various scrubs and concoctions good enough to simulate a spa day. The young woman exhales once she begins working her fingers into her hair, her fingers that are covered in dollops of one of those concoctions. 

Her pent up sigh nearly catches her off guard. She needed this; a morning of self care and a solid beauty routine. She imagined how good a massage would feel, whether it be for her scalp or her aching limbs. She could never seem to get rid of the dullness that hides between her shoulder blades, much less the tension in her neck that she had grown used to for the past few months. With every new worry came a new ache. That’s just how it was. That was one of the curses of being the eldest.

She takes her time drying off and dressing herself. She’ll be spending the day knocking out her to-do list so she chooses a worn green t-shirt and washed out overalls to go with her scuffed tennis shoes. She braids soaked yellow strands down her back before slipping on a rolled up navy bandana and closing her bedroom door behind her. 

Adelaide sneaks a peek into Cypress’s room as she slides her hand along the stucco wall, running her fingers along its ridges. Cypress has her door cracked and inside she’s wrapped in her blanket from Leto. Adelaide smiles; she’s holding Hannah - her yellow stuffed elephant - close to her chest. That elephant has to be at least ten years old yet it's still in pristine condition, just like the rest of Cypress’s things. 

The ten year old’s hair is fanned around her face and her head is nestled into the pillow so Adelaide can’t see her face but she sees that the girl is comfortable enough and trots down the stairs. She’ll eat once she gets to the gardens so she retrieves her frozen water bottle from the freezer and is out the door and onto the Mastic trail. 

Calypso’s gardens are located towards the center of Ogygia. They circle the outdoor kitchen and overall labor camp that sits diagonal to her cave, where she slithers in out of each morning - sometimes afternoon - like the dragon she is. The gardens are flush with all kinds of vegetation from tomatoes they’re growing to the Tartarian statice towards the garden’s border. The greenery makes almost a horseshoe shape with the outdoor kitchen being located in the top center, flush with Acer maples and poplars. 

She strides along the terracotta walkway until she reaches their terracotta kitchen which is already brimming with smoke. She quickens her pace to a job and comes just in time to save a burnt loaf of bread from the floor. She frowns. It needs to be swept.

“Whoa, thanks, Laida.” Paris sputters and holds his hands out.

“You’re welcome.” She answers. Paris quirks an eyebrow when she asks how he slept.

“Great.” He gestures with his large, paisley oven mitts. “Mind handing that over?”

Adelaide finally realizes she has a singed loaf of bread in her hands and nods. “Oh, yeah, sorry, Paris.”

“No problem,” he assures her and takes the loaf, dumping it onto the light wood table beside them. “That’ll be for the compost.”

“Good idea,” is what she says before she hears the soft c _lank_ of a large metal tub against the table. Maggie pushes the tub in to reveal several quarts of yogurt. Freshly made. “If anyone would like some yogurt before the other three scarf it down, here it is.”

“Yep,” Paris says as he rips off his oven mitts. “I’ll grab the toppings.”

“Good idea.” Paris sends Adelaide an odd look before disappearing into the cellar to grab from the fruit stores. Adelaide grabs her own pair of oven mitts from the wall and begins placing the rest of the dough Paris had left behind - not much - in the brick oven. It isn’t until Maggie touches her shoulder that she realizes the other girl is speaking.

“Did you eat yet, Adelaide?”

She shakes her head. “No, maybe later.”

“Are you sure you don’t want some yogurt? Paris is bringing up raspberries.”

She shovels another hunk of dough into the mouth of the oven. “Thanks, Maggie, but I’ll be alright.” The girl just nods before getting back to rolling the oats. Maybe Adelaide will have some oats later. The two work in silence until Adelaide asks how she was liking the book she’d leant her.

Maggie shrugs. “I liked the beginning. I haven’t had much time to read.”

“Really? I thought you were trying to read before bed again? What about last night?”  
“Yeah,” she draws as she uses a cylinder to roll out the oats. “I had been but I’ve just been going to bed earlier lately. Last night I went straight to bed after Helena got in.”

So she hadn’t heard her argument with Finn - or else she didn’t want to mention it. “It’s good you’re sleeping better.” Adelaide replies tiredly. She couldn’t say the same. 

Maggie moves her head up with the motion of the cylinder. “What about you, Laide. How’s your sleep been?”

“Good.”

“That’s good.”

It doesn’t take long for Paris to come up the stairs, arms laden with a variety of fruits and vegetables. Maggie wrinkles her nose when she sees a bag full of onions. “Are you making breakfast burritos?”

Paris nods enthusiastically. “Yup. We’ll have something savory for breakfast.”

“Yum,” she feigns enough enthusiasm for Paris to set his finds down in front of her. Adelaide watches as she bites the inside of her cheek. “I think I’ll be making those Swedish.”

“God, not you and the Swedish shit again.”

“You know your stepdad was Swedish, right?”

“Yes,” he answers and begins prepping a makeshift breakfast burrito bar. “And while I liked getting to go freeze my ass off in the snow with you whenever we had to visit Marta,” he pauses. “I still prefer Cleopatra.”

Adelaide tilts her head when Maggie’s face sours. She’s even more confused when she hears her utter what she’s learned to be a Norse swear. Paris just laughs, chuckling, “gràson.”

“What is with you and your goat insults?” Adelaide finally asks, breaking into their arguing.

Paris shrugs. “It’s just for Maggie.”

“How kind,” the Swede sneers.

Adelaide humphs. “Tch. All this over the Norse versus the Egyptians?”

Maggie shakes her head. “Yes, Adelaide. You should know how much greater the Vikings were.”

The blonde smiles. “Of course.” Paris’s face falls. “The Romans never passed the Teutoburg Forest after all, and the Egyptians could barely pass through the Mediterranean.”

Paris’s face turns red. “You Vikings are all the same, huh?” He stops for a moment to laugh again. “I should’ve known about you, Addy, with your blonde hair and all.”

She just smiles. “That’s all Greek, Welsh, and a bit of Dutch and Afrikaans, Paris. Nothing more.”

He sheeshes. “If I didn’t know you better I’d think you had a bit of Norwegian in you.”

Adelaide just laughs as he had but Maggie nods. “I can see it. Of course, anyone who’s blonde can pass as Scandinavian but you;re definitely tall enough to be.”

She lets out another tch. “That’s just wind god.”

“Sure it is.” Is all Paris says and turns back to the table to begin preparing his breakfast burritos. He and Maggie break into conversation about nuances such as Caesar’s campaigns in Gaul, the Poetic Edda, and the Bronze Age collapse with Adelaide chiming in whenever she’s mentioned or isn’t too distracted by keeping their morning bread flawless. She begins slicing the bread in preparation for the others - who should’ve arrived by now - until she’s interrupted by the two teens in the kitchen with her.

She huffs. “I thought it was Finn’s turn to do it.”

“Cypress said she’ll do it all of next week if you do it on behalf of Finn today.”

The eighteen year old raises an eyebrow. “When did she say this?”  
“Last night.” 

She refers to Maggie who confirms this with a nod and finally groans and rises from her stool. “Fine.” She pulls up a sleeve and points at the two. “But I’m not doing this for Finn - I’m doing this for Cypress.”  
“Understood.” Paris replies.

The two send her uneasy looks as she prepares a simple tray of food and begins a trek down the Hylocereus Trail. The cave isn’t far from the kitchen so the walk takes a few minutes, it would’ve taken fewer had Adelaide’s feet not felt like lead.

She ceases at the entrance. Tray balanced on her left hand, the right idle; the right feels heavier. Despite it being past daybreak, the cave is as macabre and lurid as the night is black. It doesn’t feel all that different from when she was younger - add ten years roughly and some fresh dread atop the heap and it was all the same. When she starts recalling the first time she’d felt this way she just makes a break inside the cave. 

Stalagmites and stalactites alike litter the cavity very unlike how it had been all those years ago for the first time. The geodes that used to glow bright colors of the rainbow are instead dull and gray. Debris of all kinds is strewn on the floor; old bottles, smashed terracotta, papers, leaves. Adelaide reminds herself to wipe off her shoes as soon as she gets home tonight. 

Time slows as she traverses deeper into the cave, which isn’t all that big. She hesitates before turning left and into a room - pitch black. She extends her arm to create an opening in the dark cyan curtains into the bedchambers. It’s far too dark for her eyes to make out anything but she knows the layout by heart and the small fractions of light from the outside do their best to guide her past the vanity, the writing table, and the futon to the bedside. 

The tray goes onto the poplar colored bedside table. She’s careful in pouring the morning’s refreshments from a pitcher to a beautifully blown glass. She traces the ornate indents along the cup before lightly placing it back on the tray. She dares to look at the bed. There’s not much to see. The breathing coming from atop the covers is heavy and the puffs of air drawn out. She can see the slight rise and fall of a chest. She takes a deep breath. “Calypso?” She waits a few seconds. No response. She bites her lip. “Calypso. It’s morning.”

Her own flinch is brought on by stirring atop the cover and the duvet hitting her. She swallows. “I’ve brought your breakfast.” A few mutterings are uttered and Adelaide lifts the glass. “Do you need a drink?”

She doesn’t get a response but rough hands and a parched gurgle. The glass is gulped down in seconds and forcefully placed in her hands. She sets it gently back onto the tray, still standing. “The rest of your breakfast is on the tray. Would you like me to open your curtains?”

“No.”

Adelaide nods, not that she can see it. “Anything I can do for you?” She’s met with no answer and opts to walk to the otherside of the room and to the hole in the wall designated as the walk-in closet. She retrieves a sheer silken dressing gown and sets it lightly against the armchair closest to the right bedside table. 

“My gown.”

She brings the gown back to the bed and positions it behind the woman’s back and she pulls her arms through, grasping at the sleeves. “And my morning dose.” The young girl hurriedly opens the bedside drawer, conjuring a bottle. Only a drop lands on the woman’s tongue and the bottle is shoved back into Adelaide’s hands and into the drawer. She hears a huff. “And _now_ , the curtains.” The blonde leaps from her stance beside the bed to slowly, draw the curtains across towards the cave’s walls. A moan bounces off the walls. 

She looks back to see Calypso illuminated in the morning light. The goddess had a pallor in her face inthe circles under her eyes and the lack of color in her cheeks. Her almond eyes were tired; seemingly darker everyday. She had begun to develop a wrinkle in her brow that made her look as old as she was. Her caramel hair had gone stone, dulled. It was in a tangled braid that began towards the bottom of her head and fell down her chest as she turned in the tangled sheets. The look on her face was sullen if not pained. Saying she had seen better days was a cruel joke.

Fingers snap and Adelaide is on the bed, pulling out the knots in the braid and untangling the titaness’s hair. She gently slides a comb through the once shining mane only to become caught on a knot in only the first stride. She kindly pulls the comb from the mess, substituting it with her fingers. Deft and unwavering, she tenderly banishes the tangles and smooths down the woman’s hair completely. 

Adelaide is barely finished before the goddess jumps from the bed and begins cradling her head. “Gods,” she groans, wincing. “Conium is even more excruciating than you lot.” The younger girl says nothing and folds her hands in her lap. “Ugh. A headache no matter where I go. Adelaide, make the bed.” She springs into action again, ridding the bed of vomit stained sheets and threadbare blankets. 

“Another day, another nightmare,” Calypso mumbles and falls onto her vanity seat. Adelaide remains silent, folding the duvet and Calypso rattles on. “ _Take our kids! We have to fight a war!_ Where have I heard that before?” The titaness rolls her eyes. “Who am I to think heroes don’t always lie.”

As her ranting drones on, thankfully in a low, bitter tone that Adelaide can block out if she tries hard enough, she moves wordlessly throughout the room and tidies the mess that Calypso’s left. It’s the same as the trail that led her into the cave; just up close. Calypso spouts off her grievances and Adelaide cleans her floors. Yes, this is definitely what her parents expected when they left her with the sea nymph.

In the midst of their musings comes a loud laugh followed by a crash and another laugh. Adelaide’s stomach twists and Calypso tenses from across the room. Incessant laughing follows. Calypso scowls. Adelaide rises quickly from the floor. “I’ll go check on everyone.”

“Yes,” Calypso agrees. She motions towards the tray at her bedside. “Take the trash with you.”

Adelaide’s never been happier to take someone’s trash and hurries from the cave. The sun beams upon her and she squints. It’s going to blind Calypso on her way out.

She almost runs back to the outdoor kitchen where - of course - Finn is sat on one of the table and Paris and Helena are reeling with laughter. Maggie is letting out some chuckles as she spoons yogurt and Cypress is grinning at all of them. 

They stop when they see her, arms crossed, left foot tapping against the ground. “Be a little louder, won’t you?” She humphs. “I would tell you not to wake Calypso but she’s already up.”

Finn groans. “Gods, you’re so pleasant in the morning, Laide.”

“And you’re loud.” Her brother just rolls his eyes while the others return to sitting at the table. Adelaide shoves Finn off the surface as she walks by. He feigns hurt but eventually peels off into a seat beside Cypress. “You know,” she begins, and she can feel an eye roll from Maggie. “I’m surprised Calypso didn’t mention you when I brought her breakfast this morning.”

Finn smirks and shovels a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth. “Felix, finnis.”

Adelaide’s face sours. She waves her hand at Maggie who attempts to pass her her own bowl of oatmeal. “It’s still pretty stupid of you.”

“Yup.”

“And reckless.”

“Yeha.”

“And irresponsible.”

“Mhm.”

“And really not in our best interests.”

“Sure.”

She scowls. “Well,” she rises from the table. “If you’re just going to pretend like you didn’t put us all at risk of a rampage,” Helena pauses in eating her breakfast pastry. “Then I’m just going to head out and pick up any messes you left for me - before she finds them.”

Cypress’s hand is feather light on hers as she turns to go “Hey, Addy, wait.” Her gaze is soft. “Stay for breakfast.”

Paris nods with a mouthful of grilled chicken and onion. “Yeah. I think you should stay and listen to Cypress’s dream.”

Maggie suddenly agrees, vigorously. Adelaide just waves her hand. “I have a lot to do.” Cypress’s gaze falls. Adelaide intertwines her fingers with the girl’s “Later.”

The younger girl simply nods and the rest of them bid her goodbye - even Finn - as she makes her way down the Asperula Trail and towards the fields. She begins by tending to their crops - they don’t farm much as they don’t need to but it keeps her in shape and everyone with fresh produce. The heirloom tomatoes are easy enough and some of the fruit trees are still dropping tasty gifts for them so she takes what she can get and rounds all of her harvests in a large wicker basket. She hauls it off to one of their sheds, tucking it against the side for later. 

Then she’s off to the west side of the island to prepare Leto’s tea - which the goddess takes with a smile and a warm touch to the girl’s shoulder. Then it’s to fix Helena and Maggie’s roof. The thing has been leaking for weeks and no one but Adelaide will do a thing about it - not even the girls who get rain and leaves dropped onto their heads at four in the morning. She has to climb up on a ladder much older than her but her patchwork is flawless so it doesn’t take long. She imagines Maggie will be grateful. Helena too - if she knew.

She’s hauling all of their produce back towards the now abandoned outdoor kitchen when Cyress appears and offers her a chicken sandwich fat with onions. Adelaide is far too busy but a look from Cypress and she accepts, hurriedly biting off a chunk and running off to the northwest corner of the island to work on the Ulmus Trail. The storm scattered tons of branches onto it. It hadn’t been just from the storm last night but the one last weekend as Maggie had gone on a run and almost lost her ACL to an errant tree limb. Luckily she’s packed her bow saw. A lot of the branches are big enough to warrant some hacking, she just has to put her arms into it. 

Trailblazing is one of her favorite chores. It’s simple; it may be strenuous but all she has to do is clear some hunks of debris, go over the pathways with her macleod and she’s done. It’s a nice mental rest stop too. Sure, she can lose herself in her trunk of books or trying at some ancient math problems but they strain her brain like pasta. She might finish the book, solve whatever geometry’s frazzling her, but that leaves her exhausted - even more than hacking at a tree trunk.

Once she’s deemed the Ulmus Trail fit for traffic - all eight of the island’s inhabitants who could be using it - she sets out again for the island’s hub. It’s sometime after two so makes herself sit down and chug a glass or two of ice water. She can’t clean out the gutters if she’s dehydrated.

She’s filling up her water bottle when Cypress appears next to the spigot. She looks up with a small smile. “Hey, Cy, what’s going on?” The young girl wrings her hands in front of her. Adelaide turns off the spigot and twists the cap back onto her bottle before placing a hand on Cypress’s shoulder. “What is it?”

She sprints at full speed down the Hylocereus Trail. A rock almost takes her out as she pauses when she hears shrieking coming from the pivot of the trail. Her spine straightens at the sound and she would do _anything_ other than keep forward but she’s too scared of the consequences.

At the sound of her feet hitting the mossy ground, Maggie and Paris turn in distress. Paris is sweating bullets and Maggie’s face is whiter than Gothenburg snow. Adelaide begins to ask what’s wrong until she feels a _squish_ at her feet. She picks up her tennis shoes to realize that they’re absolutely _soaked_. She steps back in disbelief into another puddle. The water trails behind her slightly and circles around Calypso’s cave, with the entrance being knee deep in water. 

Her eyes widen and the other two flinch at another odious scream. Calypso stands, enraged, with the water up to her thighs. Her denim jeans and even her t-shirt is drenched - she’s wet from head to toe. Adelaide’s lips move to mouth _oh no_ but Calypso speaks before she can utter a prayer. “Gods, above,” she scowls. “Not that they’re any help! No, it’s not like they could’ve solved all of this, not so I didn’t have to endure _ten years_ of perpetual suffering.” Her smolder is enough to dry Adelaide’s socks. “Day in and day out, I ask myself why I ever said yes. Why I condemned myself to Hell on Earth!” 

The three of them have been standing quietly and Adelaide realizes she’ll have to speak up eventually. “What happened?”  
The goddess’s almond eyes light with fury. “ _What happened_?” She bellows. Thunder crackles above. She wags her finger at them. “You all happened. This would have never _happened_ had your parents never dumped you here for _me_ to take care of because why not? That’s all us goddesses are good for - locking away and being made to look after everyone’s brats. Gods, I should’ve known what I was getting into agreeing to let three descendants of the three of them stay here but I was a fool. A fool to think I could handle six,-” she sucks in a harsh breath. “-hellspawn on my own!” She chuckles menacingly. “Not that Leto helps. It’s not like two of them aren’t her own grandchildren or anything.”

Adelaide nods, still trying to realize what’s happened. She shakes her knee of water before looking back to the fuming titaness. “I’m sorry, Calypso, was it a flood?”

  
“ _Was it a flood_?”

“Where did it come from?”

  
She draws in another vulgar breath trodding towards her. Adelaide doesn’t flinch when she’s mere inches from her face. The titaness’s face twists in anger. She’s red with rage and her breath is rough against Adelaide’s face. “Where did it come from? Is that what you ask?” The blonde nods slowly. She can feel the eyes of the other two burning through her. Calypso smiles cruelly. “Well, it came from you. You and your wretched siblings. You and the ones I should have never agreed to care for.” She sighs. “Not that they care for me - or my home or my body or anything of mine. But that’s not their fault. They’re Olympian born they can’t help it. After all, all your kind does is take and take, never thinking of who you’re taking from.” She stops to give Adelaide an even deeper stare. “But you, you differ slightly, Adelaide. Not much. You did take from your parents’ worst side but that can’t be helped, hmm?” She doesn’t answer. Calypso smiles again. She turns and takes in the tense teens behind her. “Hmm, it seems like I’ve been quite loud. Good. Maybe the message will stick.” She walks past them, out of the water. She sends them one last look over her shoulder as she walks away. “Be sure to clean this up. I don’t want to see any of you for the next forty-eight hours. If I do, it’s the cliffs.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone has a great week! I know I have a lot to do but we got a TON of snow so I'm thrilled. It's absolutely gorgeous outside and we're supposed to be getting a bunch more so that'll boost my serotonin for quite some time. Time will be well spent this week reading, writing and playing with my dog out in the snow. If it snows where you are, definitely take advantage!


	6. V - Paris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adelaide is angry. Paris watches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovelies. I'm glad it hasn't been too long since I last updated but I really didn't think it would be this long. I finished this chapter earlier today before work and I was just listening to my TS and Lumineers records I bought today it was pretty nice. Oh! That reminds me! Taylor Swift just rereleased Love Story from her album Fearless so definitely listen to the rerecording its great and she's really sticking it to Scott Borchetta and Scooter Braun (if you don't understand that reference google "Taylor Swift masters."

# V

# PARIS

Paris feels like a child. His feet feel heavy and suddenly he’s at the door of his mom’s bedroom; four and three quarters years old and biting back bile. The door opens and its Jørgen. He looks down at him, worry settling in once he sees green and orange smeared against the little boy’s sleeve. He settles down to his level, long legs straining at the knees against the floor. Deep blue eyes meet his. “Did you get sick from the cake, Paris?” The little boy nods at him. Jørgen looks back behind him into the bedroom where Paris’s mom is sleeping with her face being somewhat smothered by a teal pillow. She snores quietly but loud enough for the two at the bedroom door to realize they won’t wake her, thus they head to the bathroom. Jørgen wipes at his face with a damp washcloth and they go over what they had for dinner that could’ve made him sick. 

Paris has the same cottonmouth trying to explain to Adelaide why they’re standing in knee deep water. She’s frowning and red seeps onto her face in anguish until Maggie takes over.

“They were practicing with the waves and one of them brought one over the back cliffs.” Maggie pauses, biting her cheek as she studies Adelaide. “It completely flooded Calypso’s cave.”

The two of them expect a fiery curse but Adelaide just lets out a sigh that almost sounds like a sob. She stomps one leg into the puddle engulfing them before something seizes her, springing her out of the puddle and down the Ulmus Trail with a single name on her lips. 

They flinch and look at each other, knowing, and run after her. Maggie was a fan of early morning runs; Paris, not so much. They’d run together before - it usually ended with Paris heaving while Maggie was forced to wait for him to catch up - it played out the same. Paris notices Adelaide’s efficient touch on the trail as the leaves don’t curl around its edges like it had just the other day. He remembers Maggie mentioning a ton of shit covering the path which is now kept in every way. If Adelaide was good for one thing it was cleaning up a mess. 

The Ulmus Trail leads them to a familiar place as they’re hot on Adelaide’s trail. The shouting comes before they see Adelaide and suddenly the door is knocked open. “Shit,” Paris curses when he sees a limp frisbee thrown out the door. “Should I go in there and save my stuff?”

Maggie shakes her head. “I don’t think she’ll wreck  _ your _ stuff but if she does it won’t be much.”

_ Hopefully _ . They stand like that - listening to the woman yelling inside the tiny abode - until Adelaide realizes Finn isn’t there. She takes off onto the Ulmus Trail and Paris groans because his knees are already tired and now he’ll have to try to keep up with Maggie and Adelaide and he might just pass out. He’s out of shape which is clearly evident when they run for less than two hundred feet and Maggie sends him a look behind her.  _ Don’t tire yourself out  _ it reads. He snorts, his breath failing him. If only he could sit and watch them go - avoid the fighting that will follow whenever Finn is found. He doesn’t wish Adelaide’s rage on anyone however so he pushes on. He’s also horribly nosy and who would he be if he wasn’t down at the beach to watch and make bets on how hard Adelaide will pound him?

He clearly wouldn’t be himself since he’s already parked his ass on the firm, rocky sand of the north shore, with Maggie by his side, and Adelaide almost out of sight. She comes into his line of view again when she storms up to Finn, fury written all over her. Finn is standing in the surf with Helena and Cypress, laughing about something - but not for long. 

“How could you ever think that was a good idea?” Adelaide bellows until she’s in his face.

Finn just smiles. “What? Going for a swim?”  
“The only one who went for a swim was Calypso and soon it’ll be us if you don’t-,” and Paris mentally cuts her off to look at the shoreline. The waves envelope the beach violently enough so Helena herself looks away from her fighting siblings to the fierce surf. Thunder booms overhead which turns Maggie from the conversation as well to stare up at the sky. _Is she anxious_? Paris wonders - he’d decided that anything relating to thunder and lightning _had_ to be Maggie’s doing. Her step granddads were both gods of thunder after all. 

As the sky and the sea churn far out and overhead, Adelaide and Finn continue their antics. With Adelaide winning the screaming match that had been building over the past few days. It was a common but still  _ jarring _ experience to watch them go at.

Adelaide questions him with venom in her voice, “Do you even care about what happens if Calypso would get tired of you? What would happen if she would kick you out?” She hiccups suddenly but pushes another one down, not stopping to catch her breath. “You know she wouldn’t even hesitate to send you off somewhere?”

It’s not until Maggie grabs his hand and pulls him up to walk over that he realizes what they’re saying. “Laide, you’ve got to listen. Cypress and I just saw-,”

“I don’t care what you just saw!” Adelaide ruthlessly interrupts. She throws her hands up. “This is what I mean! You never listen and you just go off and do whatever you want with no regard for anyone else. You can’t keep me living like this!”

  
Before she can go off again, Helena steps in between her siblings, two stark white envelopes in hand. “Adelaide, I think we need to forget about Calypso’s cave and check out this letter she got.” She holds up one with a thick orange seal over the top.

Adelaide raises an eyebrow, eventually raising both of them at the sight of the seal. “Helena...where did you get that?”

“Calypso’s pier.” She answers.

“What were you doing out there?”

Helena rolls her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. We already read Leto’s and now that I have Calypso’s - I think you should see it.”

“See what? What’s in it?” Paris pipes up. He walks over with Maggie and a stretch, craning his neck to see the torn open envelope in Helena’s left hand. Maggie agrees with a head nod.

“Here,” she passes them the second envelope.

Maggie keeps her fingers from the seal. She looks back to Helena. “Are you sure we should take the seal off? Won’t Calypso find out?”

Helena considers this and stretches her hand out for the letter. “I guess we’ll have to give this back to Calypso?”  
“I can sneak it back onto the pier tonight so she thinks it came tomorrow morning,” Finn offers.

Adelaide bites her lip and looks over her brother then the letter her sister passed to her. Her gray eyes scan the lines one last time before looking back to her siblings. “This is serious. If they’re right, then we should tell Calypso and Leto and leave immediately.” Paris’s eyes almost bulge out of his head. “Who sent these?”

Helena opens her mouth to speak when they all hear a thump on the sand. Cypress’s body crumples to the ground, the blonde with her left cheek to the sand. 

“Cypress!” Finn and Adelaide yell in unison - both falling to their feet. Helena jumps back and Paris and Maggie watch in horror as the eleven year old’s body shakes.   
“Is she having a seizure?” Paris yelps as she foams at the mouth. 

“I think so!” Finn shouts. He places his arms beneath the girl to steady her.

“But she doesn’t have a history of seizures!” Adelaide cries. She’s moved the girl’s hair from her face and is now going between checking her pulse and smoothing down her hair. Cypress mumbles things that Paris really can’t make out but Adelaide’s eyes light up at a few sounds that resemble words.

Paris wants to flop to the ground with them and try to do something - anything, he’s her brother - but what could he do that Finn and Adelaide weren’t doing already? So he stands with Maggie and they watch Finn and Adelaide argue about the proper seizure protocols. He watches Maggie and Helena look back up the slope until Maggie finally asks if they should go get Calypso.

“They won’t be able to do anything,” Finn mutters, patting Cypress - who is still spasming and murmuring - gently on the shoulder. 

“Yeah,” Adelaide confirms. She's settled down a bit now that Cypress has stopped foaming and is only shaking. She rubs her temples and Paris  _ knows  _ that she’s going to be in the  _ worst _ of moods for the next few days. “Has anyone seen this happen to Cypress before?” She looks to her siblings. “What was going on before I came down here?”

A lightbulb shatters over Paris’s head and his hand almost surges into the air like he’s in a classroom - one of which he hasn’t seen for almost ten years. “Adelaide,” her eyes move tiredly to focus on him. “The other day - I think it was Tuesday - but not this Tuesday.” He clears his throat when she settles a palm in the sand. “It was really late and we were downstairs after you went to bed and she passed out onto the couch all of the sudden. She fell on the floor too - that’s how I knew it wasn’t normal.” Finn’s eyes don’t leave him as he continues the story and goes on about how Cypress kept mumbling and whispering but it didn’t sound like a language or anything just sounds. Adelaide asks him what she said and he tries to replicate the eerie sounding phonics and he thinks they fall on death ears until Cypress utters the same thing, lips bumbling in the sand.

“Πατρίδα,” Adelaide breathes, eyes wide with shock.

“Did you catch the ξαναφεύγω?” Finn asks.

His sister responds with a vigorous nod and the two start comparing their interpretations. Paris tries to keep up but he soon realizes that they’re speaking Greek, a language he never had time to learn. Adelaide told him before that it was supposed to be something all demigods knew even children with less than an eighth of immortal blood but he must have missed his Greek lessons in the womb or something. Maggie’s in the same boat as him because she cocks her head and he can tell she’s trying to understand what’s going on but she’s really only ever been good at Norse. 

Helena however follows their conversation easily even as they stop saying just a few Greek phrases for context and break out into straight up ancient Greek. She keeps quiet until she notices something the rest of them don’t.

They all turn their attention to Cypress who is coughing up a chunk of mucus that sounds like it’ll come out bigger than her. 

“Cypress,” Finn and Adelaide breathe in relief. 

Paris drops to the sand, trying to give her space but close enough to see the light come back to her eyes. She sputters and hacks and Paris thinks she’s gonna yack something up until she suddenly stops, one word on the tip of her tongue.

“Βάρκα.”

“Βάρκα,” Finn repeats.

“That’s standard Greek, why…,” Adelaide doesn’t have time to think over the modernity of the word because Cypress is shouting.

“Βάρκα. The raft!”  
Helena jumps from her crouch to point out to see. “You’re right, Cypress, it’s still there?”

“What’s still there?” Adelaide demands. She’s the only one still kneeling in the sand now that Finn is looking out to the sea and Cypress is halfway through the surf. “Cypress!” Adelaide calls. “Where are you going? You just had a goddamn seizure!”  
A wave nearly knocks Cypress down and after her mouth fills with seawater she shouts again. “Grab the raft! It’s floating away!”

Finn sprints into the water before diving and breast stroking all his way out into the ocean. When Adelaide can no longer see his head she starts yelling. “Come back!” She screams but the wind talks over her. “Finn! It’s going to storm! You’re going to get  _ swept out _ !”

  
Paris gapes at Finn. He’s going to get swept out. “Shit!” He curses. Maggie doesn’t even look over - she’s halfway up the beach. He looks to Adelaide and grabs her hand. “C’mon,” he urges suddenly. “He’s going to drown if we don’t get him.”

“ _ We _ ?”

“Yes!” He answers insistently. “You’re the second best swimmer to him. You need to get out there!”  
“Then we’ll all get swept out!” Adelaide argues. She’s standing now, blonde locks smacking herself in the face. 

“We’ll go together.”

  
Adelaide takes a deep breath and lets out a curse that Paris _knows_ is Greek before diving in just like her brother had. Helena isn’t prepared for Paris to follow her but he does, fighting the waves until the water sloshes in his ears. He can hear Maggie and Helena’s muffled voices calling after him but he can’t really see Finn who’s gone _far_ out into the blue. Adelaide grabs onto him at some point, trying to keep them together and they push on even as the sea pushes them down. 

It probably would’ve been better to jump in with an actual descendent of Poseidon but they somehow grab onto Finn’s feet while he clings onto the raft which is no more than a bundle of sticks held together by what looks like twine. Paris coughs salt and slosh from his lungs when Finn finally lifts him onto the thing and through bleary eyes he sees Helena shouting from the shore.

  
“She’s trying to bring us back in but I don’t think she can.” Finn exhales.

“She shouldn’t follow us though!” Adelaide snaps. “Helena! Get Calypso and Leto! Now!”

  
“Fuck,” Finn curses and his sister is swimming after them. “We’re gonna get swept out!”

“I know!” Adelaide growls.

Cypress is running towards Maggie who is now heading back to the shoreline. She shouts after Helena too and gods - she jumps in.

“We’re so fucked,” is all Finn says in return and Adelaide just shakes her head in terror. They all try to get Cypress’s attention and tell her to turn back but does she? Of course she doesn’t. She’s lurched over the small surface as they all fight not to fall into the water, with the shoreline just a fuzzy line in their field of vision.

“Why did I follow you?” Adelaide questions Finn viciously.

“No idea, Adelaide, I just know it wasn’t mine.”

“Gods, we’re stranded in the middle of the ocean, what are we gonna-,” and just like clockwork Cypress starts choking. Adelaide makes a noise that sounds like a whimper. “Calypso’s gonna kill us.”

“How can you think of Calypso now?” 

“She’s all I can think about!”

  
The two of course can’t help but argue, not even in an emergency like this one which leaves Paris and Maggie to try to remove the water from Cypress’s lungs. Paris urges Helena to help but she’s just clinging to him as her feet dangle in the churning sea. Ogygia moves farther and farther from them until it’s just a dot in a sea of gray.

Everyone is so enthralled that they don’t notice the first crack - louder than the thunder crackling above them - before Helena slips in between the thin planks of the raft.

“Helena!” Paris screams and he reaches to grab her hand but all he hears is a  _ CRACK _ and his vision turns black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun, right? Things are gonna heat up soon hopefully I'm super excited to write the next few chapters if I get some writing time soon. I feel like I'm not pacing well though so I'm gonna make some more detailed notes in my outline. Also wow look at Paris having a POV twice! Adelaide's gonna have hers next installment...so I still have to get to Finn. Either way, have a lovely weekend!


	7. VI - Adelaide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adelaide wakes up in unfamiliar territory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And just like that we're back to Adelaide's point of view. I write her point of view way too much but we'll get a break from her soon enough and this chapter is pretty short anyway. Enjoy!

#  VI 

#  ADELAIDE

California is warm. And wet. Finn tells her she’s dumb when she says that but she’s right. When she wakes up, face first in the firm sand - which is surprisingly cool - her first instinct is to shout. There’s a slow, sunken feeling to her and she almost eases her way back into consciousness but that’s until she remembers everything that had transpired in the past forty-eight hours. 

She shoots up, straight as a bullet. Her eyes dissect the coastal landscape; a scenic mess of green slopes and even more shoreline.  _ Ogygia _ ? She wonders. Had she washed up on its shores? Gods, what had happened? The last thing she remembers is Paris’s body thrown against that rock and - she shudders - and the raft splitting and trying to fight the waves. She really tried. Adelaide had always been a strong swimmer but storm waves are stronger and no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t keep a hold on anyone. Sure, she had a faltering hand on Cypress’s shoulder - the worst place to hold onto someone - and Finn was doing his best to keep his hold on her and Paris’s ankle but sooner or later they must’ve failed.

_ When was that _ ? She asks herself, looking up at the sky which is a pale blue. Morning. Time had certainly passed; too much time. Her eyes go over her surroundings again; she’s flanked by those rolling hills and then beyond her feet is an ocean - she squints - the sea is dark blue. The water was by no means clear on Ogygia, maybe in some parts of Leto’s grotto but Adelaide has seen crystal clear water once; it was years ago, before she’d even known that Ogygia existed, that she’d visited the Caribbean with her family. The waves were weak enough that her mom had laid in the surf and Helena dug a moat around her. When Adelaide had gone to help her little sister, she saw the fish through the water. They were just tiny things swimming around them contentedly. She wouldn’t be able to see any fish through these depths.

She staggers to her feet and finally gets the sand off of her eyebrows, rubbing any remnants into the sea. The blonde frowns when she realizes that she’s completely soaked. Her overalls are drenched with salt and her t-shirt is so high up her torso she has to fight to pull it down. She’s even more miserable when she feels something heavy underneath her overalls. Adelaide looks around; it seems like the beach is abandoned for the most part. She lets out a frustrated sigh before reaching inside of her overalls and turning the bottom side of her underwear over and shaking the sand out of her pant leg. Gross but what else is she to do?

The girl starts making her way down the beach until she realizes that she’s not wearing shoes. “Grrr,” she growls.  _ At least this place looks clean enough _ , she thinks,  _ now where the hell am I _ ?

She just groans and reasons that standings round won’t help her if she’s been marooned somewhere. Anyone could stumble upon her depending on where she is and her best bet is to try to find some idea of where she is. She learns as she walks that the beach is pretty clean. There are no signs or litter or even a stray beach chair but then again she could be on a remote island. That would probably be the worst scenario possible; the best for her mental health since she could get more than a few minutes of quiet for the first time in years but the worst for her chances of survival. The beach is pretty stunning though which is nice. Some parts are flat but others grow into craggy cliffs that rise well above her. She lets the waves crash into her feet as she walks. It’s actually really nice. She wonders if this is what a real vacation feels like.

Her trek goes on for a few miles until she sees a small tugboat turned over on the shore. She quirks an eyebrow when she sees smoke rising from above the vessel. Was it on fire? She breaks into a light jog until she reaches the side of the ship. In big peeling, red letters,  **_Th Dae of Te Sa_ ** is written. Adelaide cocks her head. For the first time in eighteen years she’s suspecting that she’s dyslexic. It was a common demigod thing but not for her. 

Seaweed trails up and down the small ship and she follows it around the bend only to hear a gasp. 

Cypress is sitting in soaked clothes just like her on the sand. Her blonde hair is in a soggy ponytail that makes her babyhairs stick to her forehead. Across from her is Finn who is just as raggled, having some kind of ecosphere in his hair. Adelaide can identify some seaweed, tiny pebbles, and some kind of minerals? The two of them look like someone’s dragged them through the ocean - which is pretty accurate.

“Adelaide!” Cypress yelps.

Finn whips around and barrels to his feet and into Adelaide once he sees her, enveloping her in a hug. “Laida!” He shouts into her shoulder when they collide. His grip is steel on her damp arms and he’s squeezing the life of her but she lets him.

Eventually she pushes him off lightly and catches her breath; it was stuck in her throat. “How...did you guys - do you know where we are?”

Finn points behind her to a large sign with a bulletin. “Why don’t you go read all that and we’ll catch you up to speed?”  
Adelaide’s confused but she makes her way over to the bulletin board which is surrounded by a thick grove and begins to read. It isn’t long before she’s back to their encampment and they’re telling her a grim campfire story. 

“So, we’re stuck in California and we don’t know where Helena, Paris, or Maggie are?”

Finn claps her on the back. “Good job, Adelaide! You’re really getting it!”

She sends him a scowl. “It’s not funny, Finn, this is bad. Really bad.”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, Addy, I know. I know.”

  
“Then why are you screwing around?” Cypress cringes. “We could _die_ out here!”

Her brother just laughs. “Listen, I know we’re in a bad situation - a really bad situation - but nothing is going to get better until we calm the fuck down.” He rests his hand on her shoulder. “Addy, I know you lose your shit whenever anything is out of your control but you’ve gotta calm down.” Adelaide opens her mouth but Finn holds his hand up to his face and shushes her.

She gawks at him. “Did you just shush me-,”

“Finn’s right!” Cypress cuts in. When their eyes flit over to her, she sets her gaze to the ground and begins playing with the wet end of her shirt again. “I don’t know anything about California or what happened at all but if you two fight then we’ll just sit here and that really doesn’t sound good right now.”

Finn nods enthusiastically. “You’re so right. Cy.” She gives him a toothy grin. “I have no doubt that we can find  _ some  _ way to figure this out. We just have to stay calm.”

Silence falls upon them and they’re both looking at Adelaide until she throws up her hands. “Fine! Let’s  _ mellow out  _ I guess and come up with a plan.”

“Thatta girl!” Finn cheers and grabs her by the shoulder again, shaking her roughly.

“Yeah, yeah,” she groans and shakes him off. She nestles her head into her hands before Finn asks, “Where do you think we should start?”

Adelaide gives a small shrug. “Think about who we know, maybe, anyone who lives in California.”

“Aren’t we supposed to know a lot of people here?” Cypress inquires. 

“We know the titans.” Finn says matter of factly. “They live here.”

“Yes, and we should avoid them at all costs because that’s why we live with Calypso, to keep us from the war and all of that.”

“The war doesn’t sound all that bad, I would’ve fought in it or done whatever training. Probably easier than living with Calypso.”

“Probably,” Adelaide agrees and wipes another patch of sand off her forehead. “Realistically, the only people in California who we know are all at Camp Jupiter.”

“Camp Jupiter?” Finn repeats. “The Roman camp?” 

Adelaide nods and Cypress raises her hand. “What’s Camp Jupiter?”

“Do you remember how we would talk about Camp Half Blood?” Adelaide asks and Cypress shakes her head yes. “Well, it’s kinda like that but Roman. It’s like how Maggie’s mom, Bryn, is Norse. It’s an entire different pantheon of gods, similar but different. The Roman ones are a little closer to the Greek ones though because they’re like fraternal twins; sometimes they’re different in name or importance but it’s the same idea. The kids of the Roman gods go to Camp Jupiter. It’s more of a military base though than a camp.”

Adelaide can tell that Cypress is thinking this all over from how her expression turns to the fire. She turns back to her brother. “Finn, do you remember Mom’s friends who went to Camp Jupiter?”  
“Nope,” he answers, popping the p for dramatic effect.

“Not even Chelsea?”

He waves his hand. “Eh, kinda. I remember the one that would always fly in from-where was it…,” he hesitates. “San Jose?”

“San Diego but close enough. That was  _ Claire _ .”

“Ah, now I remember her. She was the one who took us to the aquarium that one time.”

“Right!” Adelaide commends with a wave. “Chelsea was the one who would always bring us candy from the airport to wind us up.” Adelaide tilts her head. “Well, I guess now that I think about it Claire did that too but anyways, they’re the ones who we need to help us.”

“Help us?” Finn gawks. “We don’t even know where they live.”

“Yeah, Adelaide, it’s a good idea to try to find someone we know who can help but how will we even get to them?” She tucks her knees in closer to her chests and looks Adelaide in the eyes. “Isn’t there a big city nearby? Won’t the Titans be around?”

Adelaide acknowledges this all with a shrug. “Sure. Nothing’s guaranteed and we could be captured or get lost for all we know but there really isn’t any other way. We can’t stay here. It’s got to be too cold to spend the night here, and what would we do for food? Protection? We have none of that here - but if we keep a low profile, we can find Camp Jupiter and these camps - Camp Jupiter, Camp Half Blood - they’re used to helping out stray demigods. They might even be able to direct us to someone we actually know - someone we know better than Chelsea and Claire, like our parents.”

There’s a gleam in the eyes of Finn and Cypress and Adelaide is worried that her speech is too good to be true but something rare happens: Finn agrees with her. 

Cypress agrees too, saying, “All we have to do is be careful.”

A smile grows on Adelaide’s face. She’s always been the de facto leader of their little island troop but she hasn’t always commanded their respect really, just their fear and tolerance. To have Cypress, and her  _ brother _ of all people agree with her then she must be doing something right. It could always be the dire circumstances they’re surrounded by but she’ll think on the bright side. 

“So, what do we do first, Laida? You’re in charge.”  
Her smile curls like the Grinch. She lets out a content sigh. “We start by getting off this beach, then we get to the city.”

“The city?” They both blurt.

“Yes, but first we need to take inventory. Empty your pockets.” The two are stunned but turn out their pockets. Cypress has nothing on her but the clothing on her back and Finn has his Yaghatan. “That’s good,” she proclaims. “We have one weapon accounted for in case we run into any monsters.”

“Monsters?” Cypress gulps, green eyes growing with fear.

“Yes, now that we’re on land we’ll have to look out for monsters.”  
“They’ll be tracking our scent,” Finn adds and Adelaide nods.

“We shouldn’t worry too much but our blood might be strong enough to cause some problems. All the better reason to get in and out of the city as quick as possible.”

Finn raises an eyebrow, “And how do you suppose we’ll do that?”  
Adelaide just smiles. “Listen, and listen closely, we only have one chance so there will be no room for any mistakes of any kind? Am I understood?”  
Finn and Cypress exchange some skeptical looks but Finn ends up throwing his hands in the air. “Sure, Laide! Any idea you have _must_ be better than sitting on the beach, waiting to be some monster’s mid noon snack.”

“Yeah, I trust you, Adelaide.” Cypress pronounces in a voice quieter than the waves rocking against the shore.

“Good,” the woman confirms. “Now, if this is going to work, we’re going to need to try something new that we’ve never done before. How well can you two act?”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! I am so excited to be over this plot hump and off of the island; there are so many fun things happening next that we've thrown our cast out into the real world - it's gonna be quite the ride. I hope everyone is having a lovely day and enjoy your weekend if you're reading this around the time of me posting!


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